


Composure

by MooncatEclipse (Wolfgrowl)



Series: Wondrous Tails Bingo Event [13]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Author cannot write song lyrics, Brief miscommunication, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:28:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23833876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfgrowl/pseuds/MooncatEclipse
Summary: It's hard to be a bard, for all the moogles might say Nijoh'ir and Guydelot are naturals. Or maybe it's just trying to write a song for someone.
Relationships: Haurchefant Greystone/Warrior of Light, Sanson/Guydelot Thildonnet
Series: Wondrous Tails Bingo Event [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1670677
Comments: 8
Kudos: 27





	Composure

**Author's Note:**

> For the Prompt: (Attempting to) Serenade you
> 
> I've been meaning to provide more Guydelot/Sanson content, and someday I will write a fic just for them. Unfortunately the bingo event was supposed to be OC centric so today was not that day.

Nijoh'ir was silent, head tilted, and ears pricked as he listened to the song. The notes flowed smoothly, a steady and solid rhythm, the melody neither sad nor happy, but a song that soothed.

Guydelot finished it and looked to Nijoh'ir, "well?"

"You're getting better at coming up with melodies. And he's going to love it." Nijoh'ir grinned at him, ears wiggling with pleasure, "honestly, writing any song for Sanson is going to make him happy Guydelot, you know this."

"Not any song."

"I didn't mean those crude tavern songs and you know it." Nijoh'ir kicked at him lightly, "trust me, he'll love it."

Guydelot's fingers drifted over the lute, bringing out ghosts of notes from the strings, "you really think he'll accept me?"

"If he does anything other than say he loves you or let you down gently I'm actually shoving a spear up his ass." Nijoh'ir's lips twitched slightly, before he grew serious again. "I mean it okay? I've heard how he talks about you, he likes you okay? If nothing else as a friend but I don't think that's how he likes you."

Guydelot nodded, "right then." He shifted to tuck his lute away, "now then, let's hear those lyrics of yours brother."

"Gods they're still awful," Nijoh'ir dragged a hand down his face, "you can't judge me alright?"

Guydelot smirked, "is mocking also out of the question?"

Nijoh’ir huffed at him, shifting into a more comfortable position in order to play, strumming his lyre and once satisfied with the sound, began to play.

The tune was one he and Guydelot had worked on for the past two weeks and it was solid, it flowed smoothly from Nijoh’ir’s fingertips, it was the rest of this that he struggled with.

“The snow has nothing on you tonight

Burns my eyes how you glow so bright

Silver and gold, and worth much more…” and this point Nijoh’ir trailed, off, looking to Guydelot with ears flattened, “and that’s where I get stuck.”

“I assume you do not wish to use the word whore.”

Nijoh’ir gave Guydelot a look like he was strongly considering breaking his lyre over his friend’s head. Guydelot laughed and leaned back, arms folding over his chest and he considered him.

“What you’ve got so far is good brother, from what you’ve said of him he’ll love it. He likes that romantic stuff right?”

Nijoh’ir nodded quickly, “yeah he’s always so open with his feelings and stuff, it’s really sweet. I just wanted to… ya know. Make something for him.”

“Believe me, I know.” Guydelot said without a trace of mockery, he let out a breath as he considered it, “what were you considering for the next line, if anything.”

“I think if I can figure out what in the seven hells to put before it, I swore would make for a good rhyme.” Nijoh’ir heaved another sigh and shook his head, “I just, gods, writing songs is hard.”

“Oh, you can say that again!” Guydelot shook his head, bangs falling in his eyes and then back out with a toss of his head, “you’re on the right track I think, there’s definitely something good there, just figuring out what is more of a pain than figuring out how to get chief to loosen up.”

Nijoh’ir muttered something and Guydelot started laughing, Nijoh’ir’s head snapping up and face going red in embarrassment.

“You weren’t supposed to hear that!”

“Do you often think about my sex life, Nijoh’ir?” Guydelot asked playfully, reaching over to lightly shove his fellow bard.

Nijoh’ir growled, setting his lute down, “you’re not gonna be able to have one after I’m through with you.”

Which was how Sanson walked in on the two of them play fighting, Guydelot having used his long limbs to restrain Nijoh’ir, who was now pressed against him, tail lashing and squirming as the elezen laughed at him.

Sanson did a double take upon seeing them, before he sighed, “are you two done?”

“Chief!” Guydelot brightened upon seeing him so visibly that Nijoh’ir had to take a moment to wonder how Sanson was oblivious, but the captain just looked to Nijoh’ir, who grinned at him.

“Hey Sanson, what’s up?”

“We’ve been asked to fill in for another squadrons patrol, don’t look at me like that Guydelot, I know you don’t like it, and I’m sorry, but this will help us earn respect among the Adders.”

Guydelot rolled his eyes and looked at Nijoh’ir, “alright then, come on brother, better get ready. Unless you’re busy.”

“Nah, I can come.” Nijoh’ir grinned and bounced on his feet before hurrying to his lyre, grabbing it to care with him, along with his bow, “lead the way Sanson, you know we’ll follow you.”

-

Nijoh’ir pressed into Guydelot, in order to try to keep their conversation private as they got drinks at Buscarron’s Druthers, they’d thought that going somewhere other than the Carline Canopy would be quieter, but apparently half of Gridania had the same idea.

“So I think you’re gonna have to work that one out on your own, sorry.” Guydelot grimaced, leaning into Nijoh’ir, “now ya don’t have to answer this, at least to me, but is there anything you’ve sworn to him? Or would like to.”

Nijoh’ir flattened his ears in thought, “nothing coming to mind.”

“What, no pledge of eternal love, or some other nonsense, I thought yer lord was into that.”

“Oh shut up,” Nijoh’ir lightly elbowed him, Guydelot gently shoving him back in response, the two of them lightly shoving each other a moment more before they settled back down, “I- I mean, I don’t need him to. Gods, Guydelot, when he looks at me, you know he’d die for me, he looks at me sometimes like- like I don’t know, like I’m the one thing in the world that makes him happy or something.”

Guydelot considered that, “aye, you’ve mentioned that. It’s adorable.” He drawled the last word, smirking slightly, but there was something genuine in it, enough that Nijoh’ir knew he was just messing with him.

“Now ya know why I’m writing this song, to finally spell everything out to Sanson but what about you? Just feeling inspired or you got something you’re thinking about?”

Nijoh’ir rubbed the back of his neck, “I mean, yeah, kind of?” He pulled in a deep breath, “I’m thinking about uh, proposing to him.”

Guydelot looked utterly unsurprised, “oh, are you now.”

“At least pretend to be surprised, dick.” Nijoh’ir grabbed his cider and took a swig of it, “but not with this song.”

Now that did make Guydelot lift his brows, “oh?” He reached for his own drink, “how are you planning then?”

“I was thinking I wanted to have a song, but not this one. This is the warmup, ya know? See what he thinks and go from there. I don’t think we need an epic ballad, plus some other bard is probably making one just for us, or will in like fifty years or so, but something that’s ours. When we’re both ready. And that’s what I’m gonna propose with. This is just a little tune for now.”

Guydelot slung his arm over Nijoh’ir to pull him closer, Nijoh’ir instantly and instinctively bunting his head into Guydelot’s shoulder.

“When ya do, your inviting me to the wedding right?”

Nijoh’ir grinned up at him, ears wiggling with mirth, “as if there was any other choice.”

They both paused, becoming aware of someone’s eyes on them, Nijoh’ir glanced over, and hissed softly, Guydelot followed his gaze and swore.

“Damnit.”

Standing in the doorway, staring at them in shock, was one Sanson Smythe. Staring at Nijoh’ir, pressed up against Guydelot in a bar, his face practically pressed into his chest, Nijoh’ir couldn’t really fault Sanson for what this looked like. He was just affectionate like that.

“Welp.” Guydelot heaved a sigh, “guess now’s as good a time as any. Wish me luck brother?” He detangled himself from Nijoh’ir, Sanson backed up and out the bar, Buscarron looked up from cleaning his bar long enough to give them a look that clearly said that any relationship drama had better be solved _outside_ of his bar, and then went back to it.

Nijoh’ir let Guydelot head out first, and then after a few moments, (and stopping to finish off his cider), he followed after.

It was easy to track them, even with a bit of drink in him, even with his bright red and gold hair Nijoh’ir knew how to blend into the woods, he hadn’t grown up hunting in the shroud at night to forget everything just because he’d been adventuring.

He halted a safe distance from where Guydelot had caught up to Sanson, even with his ears pricked, he couldn’t make out much of the conversation, but he could hear their voices.

There was several quick exchanges, Sanson trying back off, while Guydelot refused to let him make his escape, Nijoh’ir didn’t need to hear them to know Sanson was probably trying to play off that he’d felt like he’d walked in on something.

The wind shifted long enough for catch the conversation, he leaned forward slightly.

“Nijoh’ir’s dating-”

“I know that Guydelot! But you two are closer with each other! Every chance lately you’ve gotten you’ve run off to be with him, you’re hiding from me.” Sanson sounded hurt and Nijoh’ir winced. He hadn’t meant to make Sanson feel like they were excluding him. “Like you want to be around him. You two could’ve just said something.”

Nijoh’ir almost wanted to go correct him, but Guydelot had things covered. “Listen. And I mean listen to me, cause I know sometimes we’re bad at listening to each other, yeah? But Nijoh’ir’s been helping me with something, and that’s all. I’m not closer to ‘im or whatever.” He shook his head, and the wind shifted, but whatever he said next, Nijoh’ir saw Sanson nod.

And from there, Nijoh’ir could’ve written it himself, the way Sanson’s eyes lit up, as they always did when Guydelot played, the way the realization seemed to dawn on him, the two slowly moving ever closer as Guydelot played.

When he finished, lyre and hands dropping to his side, Nijoh’ir was practically shaking with excitement, his cheeks hurting from grinning, hips and tail wiggling from excitement.

It was Sanson who initiated the kiss, a bit stiff, but then once Guydelot got over his surprise, he was able to help him, Nijoh’ir had to fight back a cheer.

He took that as his cue to slip off though, if the way Guydelot was starting to get… _into_ that kiss was anything- oh whoa. Nijoh’ir halted, mouth hanging open, he did not think Sanson had that in him.

It was time to go, time to go now.

Nijoh’ir slipped off, singing to himself under his breath, grinning broadly, the lyrics to his own song coming easy now

_“Silver and gold, and worth much more_

_To love you, I swore_

_I needed only find the words_

_You’re worth fighting towards_

_With this, know that I give you my heart_

_And something to remember when we’re ‘part.”_


End file.
